"Jennifer Roberson - CotC 4 - The House of Homana" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberson Jennifer)torture I would wish on no man, not even to save myself.
My father was young, too young, when he received his Ur, and then he bonded with two: Taj and Lom, falcon and wolf. lan was fifteen when he formed his bond with Tasha. At ten. / hoped I would be as my father and receive my Ur early. At thirteen and fourteen I hoped I would at least be younger than lan, if I could not mimic my father. At fifteen and sixteen I prayed to all the gods I could to send me my lir as soon as possible, period, so I could know myself a man and a warrior of the dan. At seventeen, I began to dread it would never happen, never at all; that T would live out my life a lirless Cheysuli, only half a man, denied all the magic of my race. And now, at eighteen, I knew those fears for truth. lan still knelt by the king stag. TashaтАФlean, lovely, lissome TashaтАФflowed across the clearing to her Ur and rubbed her head against one bare arm. Automatically lan supped that arm around her, caressing sleek feline file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/D...rack%20Of%20The%20White%20Wolf%20(v%20UC).txt (4 of 315) [2/2/2004 2:41:48 AM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Roberson,%...CLES%2004%20-%20Track%20Of%20The%20White%20Wolf%20(v%20UC).txt head and tugging affectionately at tufted ears. Tasha purred more loudly than ever, and I saw the distracted smile on lan's face as he responded to the mountain cat's affection. A warrior in communion with his Ur is much like a man in perfect union with a woman; another man, shut out of either relationship, is doubly cursed . . . and doubly lonely. I turned away abruptly, knowing again the familiar 7 uprush of pain, and bent to recover my bow. The arrow was broken; Tasha's mock attack had caused me to fall on it. A sore hip told me I had also rolled across the bow. But at least the soreness allowed me to think of things other than my brother and his lir. I have never been a sullen man, or even one much given to melancholy. Growing up a prince and heir to the throne of Homana was more than enough for most; would have been more than enough for me, were I not Cheysuli-born. But UriessnessтАФand the knowledge I would remain soтАФhad altered my life. Nothing would change it, |
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